


Fight For You

by Emono



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deaf!Toye, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, George protecting his Joe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: “I will always fight for you,” George swore, sitting up and looking down at the man he loved to make sure he could see everything. “Not because you’re Deaf. But because you’re mine. You’re my boyfriend and I love you.” He still blushed as he signed it and his heart tripped over itself at the way Joe’s whole face went soft. “I mean it.”





	Fight For You

**Italics in** ' _word_ ' **for sign language without voicing. Based on this video** **[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rk4eVPbKlLk) and also these [headcanons](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/161642759466/deaf-headcanons-with-hbo-bois)**

**For Aces with love <3**

 

* * *

 

 

George was usually very good to getting what he wanted especially when it came to customer service desks. He had a golden tongue and a charm that people found irresistible in small doses. He knew he could run off at the mouth but he was charismatic, it was a blessing and a curse. But he’d been to four front desks in the giant hospital and no one had heard of Joe Toye. He couldn’t get a fucking signal no matter where he ran and Bill must’ve still been on the road or held up with the cops.

 

He’d gotten the heartstopping call from Bill on his way home after a long shift at the bar. They’d just been crossing the  _road_ for fuck’s sake. The car had come careening out of nowhere, swerving all over the place. It had taken out two other cars before it slammed into them, bouncing them like dolls onto the pavement before colliding head on into three more cars. It had been a disaster but all George could think of was his friends. Bill promised that he only had a few bruises but it had been at Joe’s expense.

 

“That fucking asshole pushed me out of the way at the last second! Crazy fucker can’t even hear and he saw it before I did!” Bill had roared in his ear over the phone, then struck quiet for a heavy heartbeat. “Jesus H. Christ, Luz, I didn’t fucking tell them! I didn’t tell them he was Deaf! Shit, the police won’t let me leave.”

 

Every minute George couldn’t find Joe put one more crack in his armor.

 

There were two emergency rooms in the hospital, one on each side. George hit the one closest and demanded to see Joe Toye but the nurse’s blank look told him he’d hit another dead end.

 

“How can you miss him?” George demanded. “He’s _this_ tall with dark hair, brown eyes, and he’s been in a car accident! The paramedics couldn’t even tell how bad he was but they were taking him _here_. So where the hell is he?”

 

She blinked dully at him. “I’m sorry, sir, there’s no one by that name in our system.”

  
  
“Just-” He clenched his fists at his side and took a measured breath. “Has there been anyone maybe unconscious admitted who got hit by a car? There was a lot of other cars involved and I think a few more people were taken here.”

 

It was as calm as he could make himself and he restrained himself from shaking the nurse as she tapped through whatever was on her screen. “Oh. There were a few patients admitted within the past two hours who fit that description. It seems they were admitted to the West Emergency Room. Just-”

  
  
“Follow the signs, yeah, I get it.”

 

George hoofed it to the other side of the hospital and barely managed to avoid a few head on collisions. He managed to get turned around twice before he finally hit the doors of the West ER and his heels were throbbing. The doors slid open and he didn’t see anyone at the front desk. It was almost two AM and the scrub was probably pulling a double, getting a coffee, rethinking their life choices; all the things that Gene said happened during his residency.

 

But he didn’t have time to wait around.

 

George let himself inside and managed to duck past the nurses without looking too suspicious. He peeked through curtains and into the few private rooms they had, keeping everything brief. He hit a string of curtained-off beds with no occupants and then finally, thank God, he spotted Joe. He pushed back the curtain and stepped inside with a wince, stomach bottoming out at the sight of him.

 

Joe was a pretty fit guy. He was a natural boxer, a physical trainer, and he coached coed wrestling at a private school in the city. George had always admired how he fit so snugly against his boyfriend’s body, how he felt safe in the circle of his arms. But Joe looked small in the hospital bed hooked up to two IVs and a slew of vital monitors. He was still in his street clothes but at least he’d been treated. There were bandages where he assumed the road rash was and his face was covered in dark red splotches that would bruise. They were already turning color in the centers. There were butterfly bandages on his temple and the same side of his jaw was nearly scraped open. He looked like he was in pain.

 

“Joe?” George called, stepping up and carefully touching his shoulder. He knew Joe could read lips like a superhero and George had learned ASL as fast as he could but he still voiced everything. Even with Joe’s eyes shut, even when he didn’t have his hearing aid in and absolutely couldn’t hear him, he still spoke. Joe had told him once he liked it, that he thought it was respectful, and not to listen to people like Liebgott who said it was a waste of time. The group joked that Lieb was a hearing-phobe and the man never denied it.

 

The soft touch roused Joe and his lashes flickered a few times before his eyes cracked open. He stirred and winced, sucking in a breath and clutching his side like the simple gesture hurt. He turned his head and mouthed George’s name, pure relief flooding his face as he reached for him.

 

George took his hand and kissed it reverently before freeing his fingers to sign, words matching his fingers beat for beat. “What happened? Bill said you got sideswiped?”

 

‘ _I don’t know what’s going on_ ,’ Joe confessed, fingers clumsy with what might’ve been a mild concussion or just pain. ‘ _There was a car. I thought I got us out of the way_.’

 

“You got _Bill_ out of the way,” George signed sharply. “Is anything broken? Do you need surgery? Have they called your family?”

 

Joe huffed in frustration but it turned into a hiss when he tried to move. ‘ _I don’t know. No one’s told me anything. I haven’t seen anyone since they said I wasn’t dead_. _I think that’s what they said._ ’

 

“Bill forgot to tell them you were Deaf,” George informed him, the start of real anger building up inside him. “You weren’t in their system. Didn’t they take your wallet? Where’s your hearing aid?’

 

Joe looked a little sheepish. ‘ _I left my wallet at home. We were taking a cab and Bill was paying. I think my aid is on the street somewhere. I don’t remember hearing shit after the honking_.’

 

“Sir? What are you doing back here?”

 

George jumped at the sudden voice and spun on his heels to come face to face with a tired looking nurse. “Hi.”

 

“Who are you?” the nurse demanded.

 

“I’m his boyfriend,” George stated, still signing and keeping Joe in the loop.

 

“If you’re not family, you can’t be back here,” the nurse informed him, reaching out like she was going to take him by the elbow.

 

“Why haven’t you told him what’s going on? He’s completely confused,” George fumed.

 

The nurse picked up the clipboard that was attached to the bed and looked it over. “We don’t have his name. He didn’t have any identification on him. He couldn’t communicate.”

 

He could feel Joe tugging weakly at his shirt but he was caught up trying not to growl at the woman. “He’s Deaf! He needs an interpreter.”

 

She didn’t even have the good grace to look ashamed. Instead she seemed to be fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Can you do it?”

 

George looked helplessly between his grimacing boyfriend and the nurse. Joe was in obvious pain and it wouldn’t do any good to pick a fight. “Sure.”

 

She flipped up the page. “Tell him he has a possibly fractured pelvis and he needs to have an MRI.”

 

George mulled it over before turning to Joe and signing it as exactly as he could. The man didn’t look pleased but when he tried to sit up straighter he looked even worse.

  
  
‘ _My back hurts,_ ’ Joe complained, a grimace twisting his lips. That had George’s stomach knotting up in worry. Joe rarely admitted to being in pain so if he was pointing it out it had to be bad.

 

“On a scale of one to ten?” George asked, remembering some of what Gene did when one of their rowdy group got hurt. “One being mild and ten being like a truck hit you?” Joe gave him an exasperated look. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”

 

Joe thought it over and then curled his finger and his thumb, tapping them together. ‘ _Six_.’

 

“His back hurts,” George told the nurse. “He’s an eight on the pain scale.”

 

Joe grunted and repeated the sign impatiently when he saw what George said.

 

“No, fuck you it’s a ‘six’. You’re not going to get all noble and put on a brave face or whatever. It’s a fucking _eight_.”

 

Joe huffed loudly and tossed his hand. ‘ _Don’t tell me what my pain is._ ’

 

“Then don’t lie to me.”

 

The nurse cleared her throat. “Okay. Tell him I’ll give him a painkiller.”

 

George frowned thoughtfully as the nurse went to the shelving unit and started to prepare a syringe to put into the IV. He turned to his boyfriend and lightly touched his hand to get him to open his eyes. “Aren’t you allergic to something?”

 

He had to fingerspell 'allergic' and he fumbled a little between letters but Joe got the point.

 

‘ _I can’t remember what it’s called_.’ Joe’s hand hovered uncertainly in the air before he started to spell it out. George watched his fingers carefully and suddenly he could hear the word in an overly familiar Cajun accent.

 

“Hey!” George barked at the nurse when she started preparing the syringe. “Not that you asked or anything, but he’s allergic to dilaudid.”

 

The nurse did a doubletake at the medicine in her hand before sliding it back into the drawer, smiling thinly. “Good to know.”

 

“You think you’re slick with that?” George snarked, gently pulling away from Joe’s insistent hand. “Why the hell isn’t there an interpreter here?”

 

“We’re working on it,” the nurse promised as she filled the syringe.

 

“Ma’am, that’s bullshit,” George countered, finally getting her attention. “I have friends who work in hospitals. If he’s been here for more than an hour and hasn’t gotten one, that means you don’t have one. So tell me why? Are you guys being a bunch of assholes or - _no_ , Joe, I need to know what they think they’re doing!”

 

He signed the last part when Joe grabbed his arm to try and get him to stop. He stepped back and tilted his body so Joe could see what he was signing and read his lips as he spat venom at the nurse. “Why doesn’t he have an interpreter here? Why didn’t anyone make any fucking effort to talk to him?”

 

“We put in a request for an interpreter and they should be arriving anytime in the new few hours.”

 

“The next few hours?” George repeated, flabbergasted. “You’ve got to be joking! He’s _hurt_. If you’d somehow managed to figure out he was in pain you would’ve given him something he’s allergic to! You need an interpreter. _He_ needs it. It’s his legal right! Legal?” George repeated to Joe, testing out the unfamiliar sign. His boyfriend sighed in frustration but corrected his movement and repeated it. “Yeah. _Legal_.”

 

The nurse cut a look at Joe and lowered her voice. “We don’t have-”

 

“He’s fucking Deaf,” George grit out between his teeth. “Whispering doesn’t change how your lips move-” He looked down at her name tag and wanted to roll his eyes. “- _Karen_.”

 

She flustered and he considered it a small victory. “We don’t have a contract with the interpreter service on the weekend.”

  
  
“So,” he drew out in disbelief. “Deaf people shouldn’t get hurt on the weekend?”

 

“It’s not my policy,” she insisted, cheeks ruddy and hands tight on the file she clutched.

 

George had sat in on a couple of ASL classes where Leckie and some of their other friends went. He could remember scraps of policy. “What about a video phone to use an emergency hotline? You’re supposed to have one of those.”

 

“Someone’s trying to locate it,” the nurse dismissed.

 

“So you just left him here alone? Without telling him anything?”

 

“I was coming to check on him.”

 

“Did you have the good sense to bring a fucking pen so you could write it down?” George fumed. “What if he was unconscious? What if he’d gotten worse? You could’ve given him dilaudid and he might’ve died! You don’t even know his name!”

 

“This doesn’t ever happen,” the nurse assured quickly.

 

“It’s happening _now_!”

 

George was ready to pounce on her and give her a good shake when Joe hissed in pain trying to reach out for him. He stepped back into Joe’s range and sat on the side of the bed when he was tugged.

 

‘ _George_ ,’ Joe mouthed patiently, then his hands started to move. ‘ _I hate to say it but I think I’m really hurt. You need to let this go and let her do her job. Get a doctor in here_.’

 

“I want to speak to her supervisor or manager or whatever on-the-floor,” George insisted though his resolve was crumbling. Joe never said he was hurt even when he’d cut open his hand in the kitchen and insisted he just needed the sewing kit. Getting hit by a car, being ripped away from his friends, too woozy to sign and without even a hearing aid...he must’ve been petrified. “She can’t get away with this.”

 

‘ _Let this go, for now_ ,’ Joe signed with one hand, the other cupping his ribs as he tried to breathe through it. ‘ _I need you. Speak for me. Get Eugene here_.’

 

At the name sign for Eugene, an ‘e’ tapped against the wrist, George remembered his phone.

 

“I don’t have service and I don’t remember his number.”

 

‘ _My phone_.’ Joe searched his pockets for it then shot the agitated nurse a glare. ‘ _It was in my pocket_.’

 

“Where’s his stuff?” George demanded.

 

“The paramedics bagged it up. We have it behind the desk.”

 

“Well can we have it so we can call medical interpreter, Karen?”

 

“I’ll just,” the nurse fumbled before hurrying off.

 

“I’ll call Gene and get him here. His supervisor’s cool, if he’s at work he’ll send him over,” George promised his boyfriend. “I think he’ll want to help another hospital out from getting sued. You really could sue, you know? This was dangerous. That bitch could’ve killed you-”

 

Joe snagged both his hands and laid a kiss on each. George could see how exhausted he was and finally shut up. Joe needed him right now more than ever before. He rubbed his thumbs along Joe’s hand and smiled. “I’ll make sure she gives you a painkiller when she gets back.”

 

‘ _Thank you._ ’

 

o0o

 

“Here we go, big guy,” George grunted as he helped haul Joe into his apartment and through the bedroom door. Joe was walking gingerly but at least he was walking. He was a mess of bruises and road rash and the emergency room had been reluctant to let him go. They hadn’t been concerned about anything other than the lawsuit George had promised but Eugene had dealt with everything as he always did, acting as a medium between the hearing doctors and Joe as best he could. Eugene had started to lose his hearing a few months into his residency and with the time he had to take off for surgeries, therapy, and special classes he had to repeat his residency instead of being the damn doctor all his friends knew he could be.

 

Until then, he was the go-to when it came to one of them getting hurt or needing medical advice. And with the influx of meeting people like Hoosier, Joe, and Lieb he was essential when it came to building a bridge between the hearing and Deaf world in situations just like this.

 

Joe blew out a breath as he was lowered onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes and wiggled out of his socks, accepting help when it came to his jeans and shirt. George only left long enough to get a bottle of water and some Tylenol but when he got back he found his boyfriend spread out on the pillows he’d gathered around him to support his ribs and scraped up leg.

 

“That looks like a Luz shaped hole,” George observed, pointing out the divot beside him.

 

Joe motioned for him to lay down and he wasn’t about to argue. He crawled in and cuddled up beside his boyfriend face to face. Usually he was an octopus but he was afraid he’d squeeze something sore so he kept his hands light. Joe said something to him but the unfamiliar sign threw him. He mirrored it back to him. “What’s that?”

 

‘ _Proud_ ,’ Joe spelled out, repeating the statement with a fond smile. ‘ _I’m proud of you for standing up for me. For telling her off_.’

 

“Of course I did,” George countered like it was obvious. “Like I’d let some asshole shove you in an ER alone without telling anyone or even finding out your name?”

 

“Hey,” Joe voiced, thumbing over his lip with another one of those heart-touching smiles. ‘ _You protected me. I don’t need rescuing but it was nice to have you in my corner. You fought for me._ ’

 

“I will _always_ fight for you,” George swore, sitting up and looking down at the man he loved to make sure he could see everything. “Not because you’re Deaf. But because you’re mine. You’re my boyfriend and I love you.” He still blushed as he signed it and his heart tripped over itself at the way Joe’s whole face went soft. “I mean it.”

 

‘ _I know you do_.’ Joe pushed the pillow up more and George was getting all kinds of twisty-tummy feelings watching that gentle smile aimed at him. ‘ _Would you miss me if something happened?_ ’

 

“What kind of question is that?” George demanded, huffing. He bent down and smacked a firm kiss on his boyfriend’s mouth to try and soak up some of that sweetness. He pinched Joe’s cheek and laughed at the way his face screwed up. Once he was properly looking again, he signed. “And for the record. Yes, I would miss you if something happened. Hell, Joe, I miss you when something _doesn’t_ happen.”

 

‘ _That’s stupid_ ,’ Joe teased.

 

“That’s love, asshole.”


End file.
